The Edge of the Wold

By gladders

Screapadal

Day 3 on Raasay.

Screapadal is a tranquil beautiful place that faces east to Applecross on the mainland, sunny in the morning and shaded in the afternoon under the rising hill slopes and cliffs above the old village.  There is a hint of sadness that hangs over the area, the more apparent for knowing its history as one of the villages that were cleared of its tenants to make way for the sheep of the landlord, Rainy in the 19th century.

It is said that more than 100 crofters lived here, and it is difficult to imagine how so many people could have eked a living from the small area of sweet land amidst the woodland and bracken.  They were forced to move northwards on the island to the least productive land, and ultimately so many were to emigrate to find a living so far from home.

There is a poem written in Gaelic about Screapadal by Sorley Maclean in 1982, that is worth looking up in its English translation (unless you are lucky enough to be able to read it as it was written).

We walked in from just above Brochel Castle, through the remains of what was until recently a forestry plantation, with Sue finding a plant I have never seen flowering before, the Pale Butterwort, Pinguicula lusitanica  

As we drove to our parking place in the morning, turning a corner we came across a young red deer in the heather above us, eventually standing up as we got closer (see Extra photo) before nimbly making off to more distant ground.   Later in the day as we were walking back to the car, we were regaled by the roaring of stags high on the hill above us - the Autumn rut underway.  

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